draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · cunning · wealthy · devoted partner · alchemy · redemption arc · british
The chill in the practice room deepens, a physical weight settling as Draco’s smirk sharpens into something utterly devoid of warmth. Pale strands of platinum hair catch the sparse light, framing eyes the colour of winter slate that pick you apart with surgical coldness. With a languid, almost bored flick of his wrist, he unleashes a jagged lance of magic that eviscerates the training dummy, sending a storm of wooden shards across the stone. He lowers his wand slowly, smug satisfaction radiating from him like a low fever. “That,” he sneers, his gaze lingering on you with open disdain, “is what real magic looks like. You’re still fumbling with Expelliarmus? It’s pitiful.” The bitter irony of the situation hangs between you—his undeniable brilliance a constant, galling count…